Roman

My sons and I stand on the shores of Italy, watching the waves go while we wait for my lovely wife to finish her call. Three boys, looking more and more like me every day. My poor wife has done all the work while I reap the benefits. She says that it means they’re handsome, so she’s happy. I’m hoping that the next little one I put into her soon is a girl because I know she’ll be as stunning as her mother.

“Daddy, are you thinking about Mama again?”

“Yes, how did you know?”

“You have that look in your eyes, and you smile. You only smile for Mama.”

“Well, she gave me this beautiful life, and I miss her when she’s just feet away.”

“I miss her too. She’s so pretty and sweet. When are Grandpa and Grandma coming?”

“Tomorrow. Are you looking forward to seeing them?”

“Always, Daddy.” Our parents are sightseeing in France. We left after the weeklong visit to Paris where Amelia stayed with her face either buried in our hotel room pillow as I pounded into her tight womb, or buried in the works of the Louvre. Now we’re here because she wants to see more. I love giving her whatever she wants.

After the first semester she dropped out of college, knowing she had no intentions of making a career out of the path she was on. Instead, she wanted to raise our babies and when we had time, to travel and see the arts of the world. So, every year we take a month or two to explore. I work in between, of course, sometimes planning corporate takeovers in the cities we visit so it’s profitable as well as fun.

With our parents coming, Amelia and I can have a little personal time. My relationship with Rachel has grown over the years. To me, she’s the mother I never had and the wife my father always deserved. It took years of my love and dedication to Amelia for her to relax when it came to our relationship. I knew she didn’t trust that I would stay good to my wife because of my past, but I had that clarity the day I almost lost her. My world wasn’t right without Amelia, and Rachel knows it.

The sound of the screen door opens, and my heart skips a fucking beat. God, I am a pathetic man in love with his beautiful wife.

“Mommy, Mommy,” my second son, Theo, shouts, running up to Amelia, tripping several times in the sand. At three, he’s my daredevil. He doesn’t care that he falls because he always jumps right back up.

I scoop up our two-year-old, Milo, who was building a sandcastle until he saw Theo.

“Daddy, I’m hungry.”

“Okay. We’re going to eat right now.”

“Yes, lunch is ready, boys. Go rinse off and come back so we can eat.”

“Yes, Mommy,” I growl, pulling her in with my free arm and kissing her hard.

“Yes, Daddy,” she moans. She keeps that up, I’m going to have her knocked up with baby number four after this trip.

I carry my little guy over to the outdoor shower and hose all three of them down before doing the same to myself.

They towel off and head inside. I watch my family with awe and amazement. I don’t see my therapist anymore, but he and I have become good friends. I continued seeing him for the following year and a half, worrying that I was going to somehow fuck up my marriage by saying something I didn’t mean when I was frustrated. There weren’t many times where I was frustrated and when I was, it was never because of Amelia. It was mostly work and dealing with the shit storm my mother created. She drummed up publicity like no one’s business. She wasn’t even famous and she tried to tarnish my name, so I sued her while she was rotting in prison. It shut her crazy ass up. She’s working on a twenty-year stint for the kidnapping and another twenty-five for killing her lover’s wife all those years ago. She let it slip in a fit of rage to a cellmate and well, we all had our suspicions.

“Are you coming inside?” Amelia asks, shaking me out of that memory.

“Of course.”

“Maybe we could use this shower after our parents take the kids.”

“Great minds think alike, Princess.”

“Dirty minds, more like it. By the way, lover boy, tuck that thing away before they continue with their questions again.” Her hand skims right over the tip of my cock that’s peeking out of the top of my shorts. I adjust the fucker while snarling at my wife.

“Keep that shit up, and I’ll drop you to your knees right now and have you take care of this for me.”

“You act like that’s a punishment, husband.”

“It is, little girl. I’m tempted to use you’re pretty little throat as my own little fuck toy. Knees, now.”

Tags: C.M. Steele Romance
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